, and go home before you have to. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. “I wanted to make love to you. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. Go away!” “Why kill this one, Lucia? She shall be missed.
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